


Three Exchanges

by SinseiBad



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gift Giving, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 22:53:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21866857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinseiBad/pseuds/SinseiBad
Summary: The month of the Lone Moon brings both the end of winter and the end of the calendar year.  As the people of Fodlan begin to set their sights forward, it was customary for them to honor the various partings and acquaintances that come with the year.  These traditions culminate into the Winter Solstice - a festival of warmth and togetherness.  Friends and family participate in gift exchanges to reflect upon the importance of these bonds.As the years go on, the celebrations tend to blend together, but there are three that stand out to Felix when it comes to his parting from and re-acquaintance with King Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 6
Kudos: 50
Collections: 2019 Dimilix Holiday Exchange





	Three Exchanges

**Author's Note:**

> While I realize the Lone Moon is 1) March and 2) technically when everything is going to hell - Let’s just suspend disbelief a little bit and have shit start to hit the fan right after that. The lore of the game describes it as the end of a calendar year and a time where folks consider partings and acquaintances - and it seemed like a good stage to have a more widespread holiday that all the houses could be united under.
> 
> Thank you so much, Juste for the delightful prompts. It was really hard to choose between prompts, and I want to play around with some of your NSFW prompts in the future. I still really want to play around with a few of your NSFW prompts too. I expanded your original request just a little bit, so I hope you enjoy some more little glimpses of Dimilix! I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Happy Holidays to you!
> 
> twitter: @sinseibad
> 
> Original Prompt: (SFW) It's Christmas time at the monastery, and everyone is giving gifts. Dimitri and Felix both embarrassingly gift each other a dagger, not knowing what else to give. Both flushed, accept the gifts

During the month of the Lone Moon, life within the monastery grew abundantly festive. Students and monks alike were tasked with the monumental effort of decorating the church and campus in preparation for the Winter Solstice. The lush greenery of fir and juniper decorated molding and eaves. Carved candles lighting the newly polished sconces shimmered throughout the stone halls of Garreg Mach. In large gathering rooms, the warm scent of cinnamon bundles intermingled with fresh pine. Garlands and sparkling ornaments kissed the surfaces of green needles, drawing admiration and wonder. Students buzzed amongst themselves in anticipation of approaching festivities. Pupils within each of the three houses took it upon themselves to organize gift exchanges. The professors had even encouraged such behavior as an opportunity for students to bond with one another off the battlefield.  
  
Within the Blue Lions, Mercedes and Annette championed the cause, and Byleth was insistent on seeing it through. Felix suspected Byleth’s previous ignorance on such a tradition fueled their persistence. Through the year, they had a propensity to give gifts frequently and without discernible reason. Having found an excuse for everyone to partake in such an exchange must have simply been too tempting for their professor.  
  
As such, the Winter Solstice had landed Felix in his current situation.  
  
Felix stood at his desk, shoulders heavy as he guided a blade over whetstone. Metal scraping on stone filled his ears, his attention honed on the antique dagger in his hands. The back and forth motion that had long worn itself into muscle memory was his saving grace - just as he whittled at the angle of the blade by candlelight, he also whittled at his own obstinance.  
  
It was an obligatory exchange, an event that required him to give gifts to _all_ members of his house - even the boar who wore the face of a boy he once knew. Felix had come to terms with this expectation even before the Professor had approached him to ensure his participation. 

His frustrations only grew as other members of the house approached him periodically to ascertain his intentions. He nearly threw the dagger away when Ingrid approached to nag him about including the Crown Prince after he’d already bought the damn thing. It had been enough of a burden to pick out something for someone he only once knew. The added trouble of being pestered had nearly sent him over the edge.  
  
And thus, he repeated to himself:  
  
It was an _obligatory_ exchange. The boar would gift him something superfluous as well, and then Felix could return to his normal routine of avoidance.  
  
Just as Felix finished examining his progress and moved on to polish the blade, he heard a bump against his door. He glanced upward, waiting for a knock to follow, only to be met with an odd silence. His fingers slowed as they stroked cloth to blade while the silence stretched on.  
  
Nothing.  
  
Slowly, he shifted his attention away from the door to return to shining the blade in his hands. It was an antique ceremonial dagger with an old, ornate handle and a straight edge. It had been tossed into a bin of daggers by a merchant in town and had caught Felix’s eye. While he couldn’t find the brand of a notable bladesmith, the worn engravings of layered knots and ridges on the handguard warranted its purchase. With a little attention, it was fit for a gift on aesthetics alone, but Felix was not one to gift worthless blades.  
  
Once polished, he grabbed a band of leather to strop the blade. He dragged the edge along the strap only once before he heard the rustling of someone outside his door. A graceless bump - as if someone was moving to pick something up. While it wasn’t terribly late, it was certainly too late to be loitering in front of his room.  
  
Irritation tugged at his vision. Felix set the blade back down onto his desk. He walked over to the door and firmly gripped the handle, waiting only a moment before flinging the door open with every intention of intimidating whoever stood on the other side. Felix’s eyes traveled upward, a familiar shade of blue catching his gaze and guiding him to make eye contact.  
  
Dimitri stood awkwardly in the doorway, his hands clutching the edges of a box. A wide, blue-eyed stare returned Felix’s gaze. Dimitri soon broke the connection, offering a practiced smile in its place. His fingers readjusted along the lid of the box.  
  
“I suppose you heard that? Please excuse me, it wasn’t my intention,” the Prince began.  
  
Felix leaned into the frame of his door. He slowly crossed his arms, silently signalling that he was prepared to listen. While the irritation had dulled, it had not vanished. Instead, it simmered to the baseline discontent he often held when dealing exclusively with the boar.  
  
“I had heard that some had begun to exchange gifts. I thought it best to leave mine at your door,” Dimitri continued, “But, then I wondered if tripping over it would bring more inconvenience for you than simply giving it to you.”  
  
Felix’s brows drifted upward. The boar was attempting to complete their exchange with discretion. Had he known about the dogging Felix had been receiving? Or was it out of the anxiety of forcing his presence onto one who repeatedly rejected it? Regardless, it was a gesture that Felix could almost admit to appreciating. Felix glanced towards the box in Dimitri’s hands. It was a long and yet shallow package, held together by a simple, blue-dyed twine.  
  
The silence between them was growing. Dimitri shifted under Felix’s scrutiny.  
  
“Fine,” Felix finally spoke up, though his eyes did not raise to make eye contact, “Don’t move.”  
  
Felix pushed from the frame of the door. He closed it, leaving Dimitri in anticipation of whether Felix would actually return. He walked back over to his desk and picked up the blade in his hand. It felt heavier than before. Felix brushed off the implication, setting himself to stropping the blade in its final steps of preparation before returning it to an aged, leather sheath.  
  
He returned after a few minutes, opening the door to thrust the weapon in Dimitri’s direction. He offered it to the boar by the sheath alone. There were no bows nor frills to go along with it.   
  
Dimitri responded dumbly with a blink before he recognized Felix’s intentions. Then he smiled graciously, as if Felix had not just hamfistedly thrusted a gift toward him. Gracious and…. What else? Felix recognized something else lurking in that expression, but couldn’t quite dissect it. Instead, Dimitri offered him his box, and with that, they had successfully exchanged their presents.

  
But the look on the boar’s face was causing Felix a newfound irritation. Amusement? What was there to be amused about? Certainly, receiving a weapon from Felix was not _surprising_ , but it surely didn’t constitute amusement. Fondness? There was no longer a place for that emotion between the two of them. Felix wouldn’t allow it. Not for a beast masquerading in the skin of a boy.

Felix found himself wanting to end this. Embarrassment was already beginning to rear itself. Instead, he looked at the box in his hands and tugged away at the twine. The bow came apart easily, and he shifted to take the top off of the box.  
  
A polished blade glinted with the reflection of a candle-lit sconce. Felix could hear the sound of a weapon being unsheathed as his eyes poured over the details of the gift. A dagger with striking geometric patterns molded into its handle. Black leather accented the handle for a sleek, simple design. 

  
They had gotten each other the same thing.   
  
Silence pervaded the space between them. Several thoughts ruptured all at once. Did Dimitri default to gifting people daggers? Did he truly think that was the most socially acceptable gift? Those thoughts, of course, were quelled rather quickly when Felix registered the glint of light coming from the dagger that the boar prince was examining. Next, he had to fight the urge to drop the box in the hall and simply walk back into his room as if this never happened. Why did he have to fight his instinct to escape? Did he want to say something then? When those unwelcome thoughts bubbled up, he quickly abandoned that line of reason as well. One by one, he stamped down his emotive reactions - deeming them too troublesome to entertain. 

  
His internal foray is interrupted by the boar daring to break the silence himself.

  
“It would seem we had similar ideas.”  
  
Dimitri, in a fit of unprecedented wisdom, had decided not to reveal the amount of work Felix had put into his. (The grinding of metal against stone wasn’t the most subtle of sounds.) Instead he chose to simply voice the embarrassment that was clearly growing between the two of them.  
  
Felix finally looked up from the blade. With his head upright, Felix became painfully aware of the heat that was beginning to form at the shells of his ears. He replaced the lid on the box, responding to the boar’s words with only a mutter of affirmation. His eyes flicked upward to catch the ghost of a genuine smile on the boar’s lips.   
  
Dimitri drew a careful breath, attempting to regain himself in the midst of the happenstance as well, “Thank you, Felix. You have a keen eye for this sort of thing.”  
  
Felix scoffed and straightened his posture. He pulled the box closer to himself, a signal that he would accept it despite the situation. Yet, even so - Felix was preparing to eject himself from this interaction. The echo of a long dead familiarity was growing louder. His stomach became leaden and his mouth dry.  
  
Yet his ears still burned.  
  
“Just don’t swing it around and break it,” Felix chided before shaking his head, “It’d be a waste.”  
  
“I wouldn’t dream of being so careless,” Dimitri responded quickly.  
  
Only a grunt was offered to confirm that Felix had heard the boar at all. Tucking the box under his arm, Felix turned to his room. His hand grasped the edge of the door to shut it and end the conversation entirely when Dimitri interjected.  
  
“Happy Solstice, Felix.”  
  
Felix’s grip on the door tightened to white knuckles. It was his turn to take a calculated inhale. He was almost through.  
  
“To you, boar prince.”  
  


The door followed quickly thereafter. Felix stood on the other side, clutching the gift from Dimitri. The box crumpled under his grip. He stood until he heard the door to Dimitri’s room open and subsequently close as well. Only then, did the strain in his back begin to ease.  
  
It had been an obligatory exchange and nothing more. He reminded himself as he set the gift box onto his shelf. As he began his nightly ritual before bed. As he recalled the smile that had crept along the boar’s face moments earlier. As he remembered the contorted face of everything wrong in the world.  
  
As he thought of a boy who died in Duscur years ago.

  
  
~~~

  
Within a monastery reduced to dust and bones, the Lone Moon arrived once more. The celebration that had once lived in its halls was reduced to an ailing phantom of bittersweet reminiscence between former students. In their nostalgia arose the names of former friends they’d slain themselves and the names of those they’d yet to face. Yet the former pupils from the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus spun hope from debris to celebrate a modest Winter Solstice. While the gift exchange itself was meager at best, the point was the time shared - a resolution between comrades to push forward in the new year.  
  
Once, the festivities had brought Dimitri to Felix’s door. Five years later, it brought Felix to the maw of the once great cathedral. The building that had once bustled with the pious now imprisoned a fallen beast.  
  
The echoes of Felix’s footfalls filled the chapel, and yet the creature did not budge. It was far too entrenched in rubble and the company of its ghosts. Felix had long abandoned the notion of talking to it - the monster only responded with vacant stares and mutter to the dead it so desperately clung to.  
  
Having abandonned the facade it had worn during their days at the academy, the beast had completely consumed the remains of the boy Felix had once known. Yet Felix found himself doing the despicable.  
  
Clinging to the memory of the dead. To Dimitri.  
  
It made a hypocrite out of him. He found himself complaining to the professor and demanding that someone pull Dimitri out of this state. He found himself watching the beast from afar night after night - silently attempting to parse out a strategy. Even his own fool of a father had abandoned their territory to Felix’s uncle in order to aid His Beastliness - and yet nothing swayed Dimitri.  
  
Not their friends. Not his father. Not even the return of the Professor.  
  
Only the promise of vengeance against the Empire kept the beast crawling forward.  
  
Felix stood in the hall, transfixed by the towering figure. He crossed his arms, taking a familiar position of reconnaissance. Neither the chill in the chapel nor the distant sounds of celebration had inspired it to move. While Felix should not have been surprised, he still found himself disappointed. Just like the war itself, the state of the king was a painful affair.  
  


There was no pride in being right. Instead, Felix just had to sit and observe a world in which everyone struggled to come to terms with the problems that plagued their king while simultaneously fighting a war they could not afford to lose. His old man insisted they could find a solution by watching over their king, but Felix could not help the feeling that only death could end this.

  
And if they didn’t keep a close rein, that casualty would surely be Dimitri’s.  
  
Just when he hadn’t thought it possible, that thought further soured Felix’s mood. He could no longer stand in the presence of the beast. Just as he resolved to depart, the sound of shifting metal and heavy fur caught Felix’s attention. He looked up to find Dimitri no longer staring at the rubble - but staring at him.  
  
Or perhaps through him.  
  
Felix paused in his step, silently returning the beast’s gaze. He waited, but acknowledgement never came. Instead, the beast’s gaze bore the look of something wild tracking its prey. Its lips formed words that never reached Felix’s ears.  
  
The idea of being spoken to like one of the creature’s haunts made Felix’s chest tight with fury.  
  
“I’m no ghost, Dimitri. I won’t be,” Felix spat an answer to a question that was never stated before he took his leave.  
  
Felix didn’t bother to look back. The name of a dead man left a bitter taste in his mouth.  
  
He spent the rest of this Winter Solstice alone, struggling to shake the sense of yearning that began to smother the sparks of anger within.

~~~

  
  
A united Fódlan clamored with renewed vigor as it approached the year’s end. The nation’s citizens looked to their newly-crowned King with hope - in recovery from the war and for reform in the coming age. In their eagerness arose decorated plazas and spirited festivities. Even the palace was preparing for its first large-scale celebration since the coronation of their new king. Allies from across the continent had been invited to commemorate the year and plan for the next. 

Sprigs of green and ribbon decorated both the inner and outer facades of the palace. Cinnamon and pine flourished throughout corridors, wreathing all who traversed the halls in a radiant aroma. The liveliness endured even as the sun dipped past the horizon.  
  
The new Duke of Fraldarius, who had arrived early on the King’s request, found himself an intruder in the bustling chaos. He paused at the front doors, hand dragging over his side to confirm that his gift for the King remained obscured by his fur-lined cloak. His eyes dragged over an incessant holiday stir - the busy bodies paired with the onslaught on his sense beget by the Solstice celebration were nearly overwhelming. Felix forced his way through lively halls, keeping his gaze forward and his lips pressed tight in order to avoid any unwelcome idle chatter. 

He only smiled once, despite himself, when he passed a group of youngsters who sang to themselves as they decorated a tree near the mouth of the stairs.  
  
Up the sprawling staircase and through a prominent hall, Felix passed guarded checkpoints with a mere exchange of glances. He’d been expected. As he traveled deeper into the heart of the palace, the noise of preparations became distant until his footfalls drowned them out entirely. He followed lit sconces to his destination: the King’s private chamber.  
  
He knocked three times and awaited his invitation to enter. His fingers fell back to his concealed gift, growing frustrated that he’d even brought it along - it was too early to exchange. Besides, the man was now a King for Saint’s sake. Felix felt the creeping sensation that he was about to make a fool of himself. Just as he raised his hand to knock again, Dimitri opened the door wearing a broad smile.  
  
“There was no need to come clamoring to the door, Your Highness,” the edge in Felix’s words was blunted by that authentic smile. His internal strife had been successfully put on hold.  
  
Dimitri chuckled, stepping aside to usher his friend inside, “Becoming King does not absolve me from ordinary tasks. I wanted to see to you myself.”  
  
Felix’s gaze lingered upon Dimitri. Stripped of cape and armor, this Dimitri echoed the natural progression of the prince he had known. His hair was still long, but now worn half pulled back in some attempt to look tame. His clothes were traditional -he silver embroidery favored by Faerghaen Royalty intertwined with grey threads invoking his position. His tall stature was an echo of the late King Lambert.

And yet, Dimitri was no Lambert. Just as Felix would not be a stand-in for his own father.  
  
“Felix. Please, you don’t need to wait for my blessing. I’m sure you’re getting warm standing there in all of that. Make yourself comfortable,” Dimitri urged with a passing touch to Felix’s shoulder, “I will join you at the table as soon as I finish-”  
  
Freed from some sense of strange nostalgia, Felix’s brows furrowed - annoyed with his own needless preoccupation with the past. He watched the King return to his desk while idly working deft fingers through the clasps of his cloak. The sounds of quill on paper and rustling metal filled the space between them.  
  
Felix left his gift for the king amongst his superfluous equipment where it belonged. 

After abandoning his things, Felix took a seat the small wooden table. The steam of a fresh pot of tea twisted in the air, bringing with it soft notes of chamomile. The silence thickened, and Felix couldn’t help but begin to feel a sense of unease. Something was coming. The early invitation, the quaint little preparations for his arrival, the suggestion to dress down?  
  
This was no routine meeting.  
  
Finally, the King set his quill aside. Felix’s eyes rose to watch as Dimitri crossed the threshold of the room, but the warmth in his gaze did nothing to dissuade Felix’s concern. He looked away, scoffing as he leaned back in his chair. The King joined him, reaching to pour him a cup of tea.  
  
The anticipation was overwhelming. Felix could only treat it like any other towering opposition he faced: he’d fight it.  
  
“Your Highness,” Felix began curtly, only for Dimitri to cut him off with the raise of a hand.  
  
His blow parried, Felix blinked dumbly. He wasn’t used to a Dimitri who would so casually interrupt him. A Dimitri who stood on his own two feet, instead of lurking on all fours. A Dimitri who wore a smile, out of choice rather than necessity.  
  
This was Dimitri the King - a man who embodied the several facades of boar and man.  
  
“Felix, I appreciate you traversing such a distance to meet with me early. I know you have your own duties to attend - especially with a new year coming upon us, but I found myself unable to wait. 

I have a request to make of you,” Dimitri spoke carefully as he set a cup of tea before Felix.  
  
He sounded overly formal - even for Dimitri the King. They may have been lifelong friends, but it seemed even the King was feeling some sense of anticipation. Felix’s brows furrowed, arms slowly crossing over his chest.  
  
“You’re the king. It’s your job to lord around like this now,” Felix finally murmured.  
  
Of course, Duke Fraldarius would not admit to any inconvenience. Nor would he project the fact that he’d gone out of his way for this visit. Duty was not what had brought him here.  
  
Dimitri chuckled.  
  
“Even still. I wanted you here for the opportunity to express my gratitude, privately. For all that you’ve-”  
  
Dimitri continued, but his words didn’t reach Felix’s ears. Instead, Felix’s mind had locked up around the idea of “expressing gratitude.” He squinted. Gratitude for what? He’d spent the last decade in a cycle of avoidance and aggression with the man before him. The thought that Dimitri would dare commend him was revolting. Such gratitude would mean nothing more than meaningless obligation and idealized loyalty.  
  
It was Felix’s turn to interject, his tone teetering on the edge of annoyance. The barrier of his arms faded specifically so Felix could lean forward, resting one elbow on the table as he raised a hand.  
  
“I don’t want to hear about my duties to the crown or anything of the sort.”  
  
Years ago, at the academy, an objection in that tone from Felix would’ve stopped Dimitri in his tracks. It would have ended their interaction immediately, and Felix would have retreated. He would have continued avoiding the complicated mess that was Dimitri’s existence in his life. 

But, instead of backing down - the King pushed forward.  
  
“I’m not thanking you for duty. I’m thanking you for remaining steadfast in who you are. If you’ll listen,” Dimitri reached out to grasp at the hand that still hung in the air, “you’ll hear that I’m thanking you for your intuition. Your strength. For refusing to compromise your ideals even in the face of a beast. With those qualities, you’ll make a great Duke-”  
  
Felix’s hand twitched in Dimitri’s grip. He wasn’t sure what to do, uselessly grappled. He stared at their point of connection, knowing that eye contact was impossible when Dimitri wore such a fond gaze. Dimitri would not allow Felix any escape.  
  
“You don’t have to butter me up before you request something,” Felix scoffed. His eyes finally tore away from their clasped hands, only to lock into that warm gaze. He averted his eyes. 

Dimitri was a fool. Felix could not fathom why, after an entire lifetime together, Dimitri still attempted something as unnecessary as lavishing Felix Hugo Fraldarius, of all people, with praise.  
  
Needless praise that made his throat to swell, his stomach tightened - his heart twisted in his chest.  
  
Dimitri begins again, firmly resolved, “Felix, I wish to ask you to be my advisor in addition to retaining your dukedom. To continue to lend me your perspective as we move forward. For the first time in years, I find myself sleepless with hope for the future - as opposed to nightmares of the past. I want to keep my eyes towards that future with you at my side.”

Felix remained silent. His eyes had become transfixed on his still-full cup of tea. His lips pressed tight as he struggled to find something to say… to regain control over the one-sided fight he refused to concede.

There was nothing he _could_ say in the face of this.  
  
Respect for his perspective? A desire his input? He’d grown begrudgingly complacent in being unheard as those closest to him avoided or failed to understand what he said. His predictions concerning Dimitri fell upon deaf ears until it was too late. He’d spat in the face of the tradition that celebrated sacrifice as beauty rather than tragedy.

Now his thoughts were being sought out?  
  
Relief should have followed, but instead a myriad of emotions threatened to overtake him. He scowls as he pushed them back. This was no time to sort through his feelings.  
  
“You don’t have to continue. I’ll be an advisor. So stop,” Felix finally forced, though his tone dangled too close to a plea for his own liking.  
  
Since before he was born, this was his destiny - sitting across from the King of Faerghus, begging him to shut up. He had spent years pushing against the necessity of this obligation. He’d spit at the idea of inheriting the Fraldarius title with the expectation of sacrifice to the crown. He’d watched how his old man devoted nearly every waking moment to fulfilling his duty to the late king.  
  
Yet, he sits at this table as the Duke of Fraldarius, advisor to the King. Had he truly remained steadfast in himself? Or did Felix walk a path dangerously close to that of his father’s?  
  
As if sensing Felix’s internal turmoil, Dimitri spoke again, “I must go on. I would not expect you to change your methods, Felix. In fact, I must implore that you retain them. They are as undeniably unique as they are authentic. That, in itself, is what is so valuable.”  
  
Dimitri pushed a carved, wooden box towards Felix, no larger than a teacup. Only after the box was in Felix’s vicinity did Dimitri finally relinquish his hand. Felix flexed his fingers in their newfound freedom before he cautiously grabbed the box to open it. Inside the silk-lining sat a recently polished ring. Its silver band was engraved with delicate knots and braids, the crest of Blaiddyd emblazoned on the front plating. Felix instantly recognized the ring as one his old man had worn. Felix made no move to touch it.  
  
And now it was Dimitri’s turn to plea.  
  
“Will you not accept?”  
  
Felix replied with a sharp exhale of breath. He gripped the box, turning it over in his hands.  
  
“I don’t need a ring to be your advisor,” he said, making no effort to return the box. Instead, he pulled it closer to his tea cup. He drank not because he enjoyed the taste of chamomile by any measure - but to hide his face in the midst of all of this.  
  
He had a lot to sort through, later this evening.  
  
A sigh escaped Dimitri’s chest, giving way to a laugh. Suddenly he pushed himself to stand, reaching for something behind him.  
  
“Of course. And I suppose you have no need for your Solstice gift as my advisor, as well?”   
  
Dimitri revealed a sword, securely tucked into a black leather scabbard. He held it out with a smile, patient as he waited for Felix’s gaze to meet his own. Felix struggled not to choke on his tea, lips curling against the taste. He glanced upward, freezing at the sight of a sword.  
  
A blade.  
  
For Solstice?  
  
He didn’t smile - instead, his ears began to burn. Just when his heart had begun to recover from the pressure of their previous conversation, his blood ran hot once again. Quickly, Felix pushed himself to stand, in a way that Dimitri could not help but jump. Felix’s boots planted into stone sharply.  
  
Silence.  
  
The silence continued as Felix marched away from the table, leaving the King bewildered. Resolute, Felix went to his discarded gear, only to fish out the present that he had brought.  
  
It just so happened to also be a blade. The realization - the recollection - filled him with humiliation. He wanted to thrust this blade into Dimitri’s face and shout.  
  
How could he, Felix Hugo Fraldarius, dare to gift the King a blade? Again? And how dare the King decide that a blade was a suitable gift for anyone? Let alone to follow through on the gesture, twice?  
  
Sword firmly in hand, Felix stalked back towards Dimitri, who had begun to realize just what had transpired between them. Dimitri smiled wider as Felix tore the sword from his grasp and replaced it with another.  
  
Felix looked over the sword he’d received, his eyes pouring over a familiar looking hilt. He glanced back to the gift he’d just given the King.  
  
No…  
  
No. He’d made a mistake. He really should have just taken his things and left. His ears burned, color spreading to his cheeks.  
  
“The Infamous Sword…. The talk of House Fraldarius for years,” Dimitri began slowly, quietly. His voice was filled with admiration as he dared to push on, “A ceremonial sword in the same design as the one Prince Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd swung and snapped clean in two…”  
  
A pause before the King added sheepishly, “It would seem we had similar ideas of how to commemorate this milestone.”  
  
Felix’s grip around the gifted sword grew tighter. His lips quivered as he forced them into a thin line. He wet his lips, closing his eyes against the threat of misting. When he opened them, Dimitri had come closer. He smiled down upon him before pulling Felix into a tight embrace. This time, Felix did not struggle. After a few moments, he even returned the hug in his own, lukewarm way.  
  
His embarrassment and anger began to fade, muted by the warmth of the embrace. Dimitri’s weight was reminiscent of dressing on a wound. Felix’s grasp had the strength of an injury that had only just begun to mend. The onslaught of his emotions was exhausting, but Felix could feel a glimmer of relief in becoming reacquainted with some he’d long thought dead.  
  
“Happy Solstice,” Dimitri spoke low, as if to ensure only Felix would hear.  
  
Cotton-mouthed, Felix swallowed. He inhaled carefully, a thin smile curving onto his lips despite himself.   
  
“And to you, Dimitri.”


End file.
